House of Games
by SheSaysCiao
Summary: The Anubis kids are citizens of Panem. It's time for another exciting Hunger Games, and this year's tributes are shaping up to be an interesting bunch. What will happen in the arena? Who will win? Who will lose? Who will find love? Rated T just in case.
1. House of Reapings

**Okay. I know I have All is Fair in Love and War to finish, and I have Code: Anubis to update. But, I just finished reading The Hunger Games series, and I saw the movie with one of my best friends yesterday, _and_ I've had the idea for this in my head for a long time, so… here we are.**

**Also, this is set in an alternate universe where there is no Katniss, Peeta, or Gale. Sorry.**

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><p><strong>Chapter One: House of Reapings<strong>

Nina's POV:

My name is Nina Martin. I am sixteen years old. My home is District 12. My parents own the sweet shop in town. My best friends are Madge Undersee and Delly Cartwright. Today is Reaping Day. This year's Hunger Games are about to begin.

I sighed, anxiously fiddling with my dress' sash, the bow tied at my waist. _I really hope I don't get picked,_ I thought, combing out my frizzy, dirty blonde hair in the mirror. "This is as good as it's gonna get," I muttered to myself. My parents were downstairs, working in the sweet shop. My younger sister, who's eleven, watched quietly, a solemn expression on her face.

"I'll be fine," I reassured her. "They won't pick me."

The real problem was convincing myself of that.

She scoffed, twirling a lock of her hair around her thumb.

The time for the Reaping approached faster than I thought it would. In no time, people were filling up the square, kids put into the lottery as tributes sectioned off by ropes according to age. All the adults and family members stood there, lining the perimeter. The place was crawling with Peacekeepers, and not the semi-friendly ones like who resided here in Twelve. It made my stomach flip and my blood run cold.

Finally, after Mayor Undersee has welcomed us to another Reaping, Effie Trinket took the stage, decked out in a violet dress and light lavender wig, with a little pillbox hat the same shade as the rest of her outfit. The heels on her feet look like they'd be a pain to walk in, but she didn't seem to mind. After all, she _was_ from the Capitol.

"Ladies first," she started, her Capitol accent already starting to get on my nerves. After reaching in a delicate hand and fishing around for the slip of paper containing the tribute's name, she finally pulled it out. Taking a breath, she read it. "Nina Martin."

I stood there, shell-shocked. Me. She had chosen _my_ name. _Mine._ Out of all the names in District 12, and a lot of them were in there multiple times due to tesserae. My heart sank, then it started beating really fast. I thought I was going to faint. Slowly and reluctantly, I made my way to the stage before any Peacekeepers could rudely usher me to our district's escort.

After she chose our boy tribute, the three of us were marched into the Justice Building, where I'd wait in a nicely-furnished room and have an hour to say goodbye to my friends and family.

The first person to come crashing through the door was my little sister.

"You can't go!" she shouted, tears already streaming down her face.

"It's too late," I replied, getting up off the velvet sofa and kneeling down in front of her, looking at each other from eye-level. "I've been Reaped. No one volunteered as tribute. I'm going to be in the Games."

"But you're strong!" she cried. "Try to win!"

"I'll try," I answered, now near-tears. I stood, looking up at my parents. "I love you."

"We love you, too, sweetheart," my mom replied, hugging me close. "We have faith in you. I know you can win."

"Thanks" was all I could say. The biggest doubt in my mind was that I'd return to District 12 alive, but I decided to keep my mouth shut. No need in making them more upset or anything. Today's rough enough as it is.

My father then pulled me into his arms, ruffled my hair, and kissed the top of my head. I was glad I had a close relationship with my parents, and I was glad nothing had happened to them like the men who'd died in the mine explosion a few years ago. But they were part of the Seam, and I lived in town. Above the sweet shop. Better-fed than most, but still hungry.

District Twelve, where you can starve to death in safety.

After my parents and sister left, Madge and Delly entered the room, grim expressions on their faces. Madge's eyes looked red and puffy, as if she'd been crying. I felt bad enough as it was, abandoning my family and sister, but seeing Madge as upset as she looked almost broke my heart even more. She never cried. Never. Not even if something bad had happened to her. She tried to suck it up and hold it in, keeping her head held high and the rest of herself looking strong.

"You're strong, Nina," Delly started, sitting next to Madge on the sofa across from me. "We know you can win the Games. Almost the whole of District 12 does. You'll come out of it. You'll come back."

It was all I could do not to burst into tears right then and there.

"Th-thank you, Delly," I chocked out. _No, don't cry,_ I told myself. _For Madge's sake. Don't cry._

Madge dried her eyes on a soft blue handkerchief and finally looked me straight in the eye.

"We'll miss you," she confessed. "You were our best friend."

"And you were mine," I replied, getting up to go over and hug them.

We stayed like that, in our group hug, for what seemed like forever. After pulling away, Delly said she had to go back home; her parents would be wondering where she was. Madge stayed a few minutes longer, though.

"Here. Take this." She unfastened an expensive gold pin from her dress. The pin was small, and the outline was circular. Inside the circle, there was a diamond, the top and bottom points touching the circle's inside rim while the sides didn't come into contact. She pinned it to my blouse.

"I can't take this from you," I told her.

"It'll be your District token," she clarified. "Please, Nina. Take it. Take it to remind you of Delly and I. Of your parents. Your sister. Twelve."

I stood there, speechless, hugging her again. "Thank you," I whispered.

"Time's up." A Peacekeeper appeared at the door, looking less than happy. But I guess that's what they're supposed to do: Try not to convey any emotions.

Madge left silently, not looking back. I don't think I could've bared it if she had, anyway.

Following Effie and a surprisingly sober Haymitch, we made our way to the drab, gray train station, waving goodbye to my family, friends, and the rest of District Twelve.

I was going to the Capitol. From there, I was going to the Hunger Games.

I was almost positive that I was going to end up dead in that arena.


	2. House of Trains

**Hi! Updating this story may be a bit slow, as I'm in my last few weeks of school and exams and assignments are pretty insane and heavy. So if it's okay, I'd love it if I weren't harassed to update all the time.**

**Thanks!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Two: House of Trains<strong>

Fabian's POV:

I'm from District 6. Transportation. Naturally, I should be fascinated by the Capitol's tribute train that was waiting at our main station. Instead, I was sitting nervously on the edge of my bed in my room, squirming. I was terrified.

_I'm going to the Hunger Games,_ I told myself. _I've been Reaped._ My district partner, Sabriel, was a round-faced girl with wavy, red-auburn hair and dark hazel eyes. She hasn't said a word since we left Six. I expected as much - she was fourteen. Two years younger than I was.

Sighing reluctantly, I dragged myself out of my room and to the dining car after our District escort shouted to me that dinner was ready.

"What's our strategy?" I asked Thalia, this year's mentor. She was muttering to herself about Morphling.

"Don't get killed," she said flatly, reaching for a fresh slice of orange.

"Obviously," Sabriel mumbled, pushing some lamb stew around in a bowl with a spoon. "But how are we going to _survive?_ I mean, Six isn't nearly as bad as Twelve in the ways of victors, but we're definitely not Careers. We need help!"

"She's right," I agreed, taking a heaping spoonful of my own lamb stew. "We're as good as dead in the bloodbath."

"You won't die in the bloodbath," Thalia reassured, putting on a small smile. Her dark blue eyes twinkled and her blonde hair was swept back into a bun at the back of her head. "I'll make sure of it. You just need to play at your strengths. Fabian: What are you good at?"

"Er," I racked my brain, trying to think of something I was remotely good at. "I'm smart."

"Good. Smart enough not to do anything too stupid, I assume. Sabriel?"

I saw my district partner stiffen out of the corner of my eye. "Um, well," she started meekly, still picking at her food, "I-I'm pretty good at throwing knives."

"Good. Strength. You two should try to stick together as much as possible in the Games."

I considered this. I didn't know Sabriel too well, but I'd seen her around school often enough and I went out on a date with her older sister who was in my class. Her name was Rina, and the two of them looked almost alike, save for their height difference and the fact that Rina's hair was straighter than Sabriel's.

"It's a deal," was all I could say.

"Good," Thalia responded. "After you're done eating, we should go watch the recaps of the Reapings. It's mandatory, you know."

_Oh, shut up,_ I thought.

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><p>The rest of dinner went by in silence. Finally, we settled down in front of the television and watched the recap of all the District's Reapings throughout the day. A pretty blonde girl named Amber was chosen from District 1. She didn't look like too much of a threat, and I was surprised she hadn't volunteered to go into the Games herself, as was the custom in Districts 1, 2, and 4. They held the Careers: Kids who illegally trained for the Games from birth, volunteered at the Reapings, and then once the Games started, slaughtered everyone in sight. Surprisingly enough, the Capitol never questions them.<p>

I wasn't paying too much attention to the rest of the tributes being chosen, even though I knew I had to. They were my competition. Eventually, I'd have to kill some of them, or I'd end up dead myself.

The only thing that snapped me back to reality was when the recap reached Seven, and a petite girl with dirty blonde hair was chosen as tribute. She started crying instantly, and before a pair of Peacekeepers could roughly usher her up to the stage, a more muscular and athletic-looking older boy shouted that he'd volunteer for her. It was revealed that his name was Mick, and the girl who was chosen as tribute was Megan, his younger sister. I winced; it must've been hard to volunteer like that, knowing you'd be going to a place of evil and that you might not be able to come to your home alive.

The rest of the recaps went by in a blur. The only people who looked remotely threatening were the girl from Eight, Patricia, and the boy from Nine. His name was Jerome, and he had this glint in his eye accompanied by a smirk as soon as he was chosen and stepped up to the stage. I silently prayed I wouldn't have to deal with them at all in the arena.

"That's final," Sabriel started once the anthem finished and the seal flashed. "We're as good as dead."

"You're having a very positive outlook on this, aren't you?" I shot back bitterly. "Maybe, if you had some faith in yourself and your strengths, you'd have a decent thought in your head that you can keep yourself alive long enough to see the end of the bloodbath!" I noticed my voice was rising, and our District escort had tried to calm me down by shouting about manners. I couldn't care less. "Shut up, all of you! I don't want to be here as much as Sabriel does; I'd rather die than have to compete in these Games!"

And with that, I stormed from the compartment, slamming the door shut behind me, and made my way quickly to my room, changing into a pair of pajamas I'd found in the chest of drawers and falling into bed, curling up under the blankets.

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><p>I was haunted by a sleep full of nightmares. The faces of my fellow tributes surrounded me, mocking me, grinning evilly. Slicing weapons through the air. At one point, Jerome had appeared with a sword and hurled it straight at my heart. I woke up gasping for breath and covered in sweat, my hair plastered to my forehead and the back of my neck.<p>

_Calm down, Fabian,_ I told myself. Slowly, I got out of bed and went into my bathroom, splashing cold water on my face and drying off with a fluffy burgundy towel. _It was only a dream._

"More like a nightmare," I whispered aloud. "A series of nightmares."

If I was going insane, I didn't care. I would be dead in a matter of weeks. I knew it. After the training sessions and the interviews which would be contributing to whether or not we got sponsors, we'd be in the arena and have to put all of our skills to the test, killing each other to the best of our ability. I was scared sick, but if I was going to die, I wanted to die with honor. So I had to tell myself to suck it up for the sake of everyone around me, for the sake of my family, and for the sake of whoever I'd be facing in the Games.

"Be a man," I told myself, taking a hard look in the mirror. My hair was mussed and stuck up at odd angles from the rough few hours of sleep I'd had, but I decided to leave it. After taking a few more calming breaths, I returned to bed, shutting off the bathroom light before falling back into the tangled mess of sheets and blankets.

I had a new resolution: Try my hardest to win. If I died, I wanted it to be with honor, but if I won, then that would bring honor to myself and my family.

Maybe things wouldn't be so bad after all.


	3. House of Glamor

**Chapter Three: House of Glamor**

Amber's POV:

To be honest, I was a bit nervous about being in the Games. It was true that I had volunteered as Tribute, but that's what everyone in my District did, didn't they? I'm from 1. We always win.

It didn't help that a few people in my District, especially my partner, thought I was dumber than anything and would most likely die within the first few hours of being in the arena.

That, or I'd step off my metal plate before the gong went off and be blown to bits right then and there.

I sighed as my district partner, Russet, was a redheaded boy a year older than me and several inches taller. He was rambling on about how he was going to kill that girl from Twelve like the vermin she apparently was. I actually thought she seemed quite nice; humble even.

"Don't you think we should at least scope out our competition?" I asked before being dragged away from him as soon as we entered the Remake Center.

"Maybe!" he called back, shrugging. "Good luck with that! I'll be planning my kills."

_Of course you will,_ I thought. _Isn't that what you always do?_

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><p>My prep team was actually quite nice. I ended up dressed in a beautiful, glittery, amber-colored gown, probably because of my namesake. My hair was done up in a tight bun with a few curls peaking out from underneath, and the shoes were absolutely stunning: They were the exact same color as the dress, strappy heels… the whole shebang.<p>

"You look fabulous!" my designer praised as I walked around the small area assigned to me.

"I know," I answered. The only thing I loathed was the fact that my skin burned a bit from the chemicals I was rubbed down with. Other than that, I felt like a Capitol girl. "Thank you."

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><p>The ride to the Training Center on our chariots wasn't as bad as I thought. Russet still treated me like I was dumber than a District 12 tribute, but I shrugged it off and waved to the crowd, ignoring what our mentor told us about sticking together and acting as one. If he wasn't going to play along, I sure wasn't, either.<p>

"What the hell was that, Amber?" he asked once we were on our floor in the Training Center. "You completely snubbed me off during the chariot ride!"

"Excuse me, but you're the one who's treating me as if I don't have two braincells to rub together!" I shot back. "Next time, if you want me to do something, don't treat me like rubbish!"

That's when I slammed the door to my room. I wasn't hungry, so I didn't go out for dinner. The only person who visited me that night was one of the Avoxes. She put a tray of food next to my bed and left, obviously not saying a word. It must be terrible to be mutilated like that, not having the ability to speak for the rest of your life. So much to say, but no way to say it.

I angrily ate my dinner and took a shower reveling in the fact that I was actually _in_ the Capitol. I'd wanted to come here since I was a little girl, and I finally got my wish… but it wasn't going the way I wanted it to.

We'd only end up being here for a few weeks anyway, and during those weeks, there would just be training sessions and the interviews. Then we'd be hauled off to whatever arena the Gamemakers designed this year. Lo and behold, we'd fight to the death.

I was actually quite comfortable with the whole dying part. Russet obviously wasn't going to help me out, that much was certain. Somewhere deep down, I hoped I could ally up with that brunette boy from District Six. He seemed smart. And he was cute.

"Shut up, Amber," I scolded myself, watching the hot water run in beads down my body as I stood in the shower for what felt like eternity. "You know you can't have him. He'll either end up dying before you, or the opposite will occur. It's best not to want."

I half towel-dried my hair, leaving it to drip in ringlets that framed my face as I searched for a pair of pajamas. I had a bad feeling about the next few weeks; I wasn't strong, smart, or cunning enough to get a good training score. The only thing I had were my looks. And my dignity.

"Just like what Mum used to say," I reminisced as I crawled into bed after getting dressed. "'You're beautiful. Fragile. Boys would be stupid not to go out with you.' Well, Mum, it doesn't look like I'll have much of a romantic life in the arena. The next time you, Dad and Angora see me will probably be in a wooden box sent back to 1."

Angora was my older sister. She'd won the Games a few years ago, and now that I volunteered as Tribute, my entire family was counting on me to win the Games yet again. I was forever living in the shadow of my older, more successful, more beautiful sister, and I was sick of it.

Flashbacks of saying goodbye to my family and friends started playing in my head.

"This is what you wanted, wasn't it?" I'd asked Angora. She sat across from me, stoic-faced, staring somewhere off in the distance. _Probably remembering her own Games,_ I'd thought.

"Sure," she'd replied. Then she leaned forward and pecked my forehead, leaving the room without another word. My parents assured me that she was in fact proud, but being in the Games had given her something that was called Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. At least, that's what they'd called it back when Panem was North America.

Other than the not-so-sweet goodbye from my sister, my parents weren't much helpful. They kept pushing me to win; to beat everyone else in the arena. I felt really pressured to win the Games, especially when I was thrust into Angora's shadow like that.

I knew I wasn't going to win. I had a small build, was dainty… even though I could throw knives pretty well, I never excelled in the training the kids in my District and I did in order to compete in the Games and make our District more prosperous than others. The Capitol favored us anyway, since we made all their luxury goods.

I had it made back in District 1. All I wanted to do was go home, but I was an idiot and volunteered as Tribute, when there was clearly a better-skilled and more-muscled girl than I was in the crowd, ready to take my spot.

Ready to make One proud by winning again.

Ready to do what I knew I can't.

Snuggling under the blankets in my room in the Training Center, I tried my best to block out any thoughts about the Games, District 1, or anything else that I knew would make me cry. Instead, I just lay there, thinking only about that handsome brunette boy from District Six. Maybe I would find love in a hopeless place after all.


	4. House of Training

**Chapter Four: House of Training**

Jerome's POV:

The Capitol wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. At least Vivian and I were treated somewhat decently in the Training Center, even though I felt like an animal ready for slaughter.

"Jerome, you're an idiot," she snapped, her dark blue eyes narrowing. "I still don't understand why you decided to come along with me to the Games in the first place."

"It's because I love you, Viv," I answered honestly. "I volunteered as Tribute to protect you. I know I'll die trying, but your life is more precious than mine."

"But we both can't win this thing! You know it!" She was very upset; she had been ever since we left Nine. Vivian and I had been in a love/hate relationship since we were small, and when she was picked at the Reaping, I gladly volunteered to go with her as Tribute. My logic was infallible, but she found problems with my reasoning: The fact that I would rather risk my life for another human being was somewhat uncalled for, as my personality stated otherwise.

She was right, though. I'd never wanted to protect anyone other than myself. Not even my little sister, who I didn't have the best relationship with. Viv was different, though; she had a controlling manner about her, like I did. She also didn't take crap from anyone, which was another quality I adored about her.

Maybe volunteering as tribute wasn't the best idea after all. But I could never let her go it alone. I would never be able to forgive myself.

"What's on your mind?" she asked suddenly. "Not that it can process much anyway."

Snarky. I liked that, too. "Just thinking about how twenty-four of us go in and only one comes out," I answered nonchalantly.

Her expression fell. "Stop it," she spat.

Just then, our District Escort showed up.

"Time for your first day of training," she said. She was way too happy about the entire ordeal. I think it was because she was raised in the Capitol, therefore… well, you got the idea.

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><p>One of the Gamemakers explained the rules of training: No harming other tributes, as we'd have plenty of time to do that once in the arena, we were to go to different stations and test out our strengths, etc. I started off with archery, while Viv trailed off and went to go throw knives with the annoying redhead from Six. It looked as if her District partner were there with her, but he was mainly observing instead of actually participating. I scoffed.<p>

Out of nowhere, the girl from Three came strolling over, casually plucking a bow that seemed to be bigger than her. Her hair was curled slightly, and she was over a head shorter than me; the top of her head went to about my upper arm.

"I'm Mara," she said curtly, turning to face the target and releasing an arrow that amusingly flew past the target and bounced off the far wall. "And, you are…?"

"Jerome," I answered, narrowing my eyes. _You'll be dead first,_ I thought. _You won't last a second once the Bloodbath starts._

She kept staring at me. Ignoring her, I shot a few arrows at the different targets, hitting the bullseye each time. From the glance I stole at the Gamemakers, they looked impressed.

So did Mara.

"Is there anything you want?" I prodded. "Or are you just going to continue staring at me?"

"Oh." She cleared her throat and rubbed the back of her neck, looking down at her feet. "Er, nothing."

After she finished mumbling to herself, she placed the bow back with the other archery equipment and went over to the knot-tying station. Cocking my head to the side and narrowing my eyes, I spotted Vivian talking with the tributes from Six.

I almost threw down my equipment in exasperation as I stormed over to my district partner and grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her away from the redheaded girl and smart-looking brunette boy.

"_What_ are you _doing?_" I spat at her as I led her away from those idiots.

"Scoping out the enemy," she shot back, roughly taking her wrist back and crossing her arms over her chest. "Plus, they're a lot nicer to me than you've been recently."

I was outraged. "They want to _kill_ you, Viv!"

Her facial expression went from looking neutral to being a vicious scowl. "Don't tell me what to _do,_ Jerome," she snarled, jabbing a finger at my chest. _"You're not the boss of me."_

And with that, she sauntered off to join the tributes from Six without giving me a second glance back.

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><p>The rest of the day went by horribly. I ate lunch alone because Viv decided to team up with the tributes from Five and Six. She and the girl from Five, Joy, seemed to be getting along fairly well. Fabian was the name of the boy from Six, and he kept staring at Joy with this light in his eyes… almost similar to how I stared at Vivian.<p>

But no, I was mad at her. And we couldn't _both_ win the Games. It was unheard of.

One thing was for certain, though: Mara, the girl from Three, and Nina, the girl from Twelve, wouldn't last too long as soon as I got into the arena. They both seemed annoying as all else, and Mara was too soft-spoken to actually seem as if she could kill someone even if she had to. But, she was from Three… and Three was where they produced electronics for the people of the Capitol. Maybe something she was taught as a child, something technology-related, would end up helping her survive at least for a little while in the Games.

Nina, on the other hand, looked as if she had no hope at all in lasting, and if I could bet, I'd bet she wouldn't make it through the Bloodbath.

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><p>As the training session for the day came to a close, I found myself walking back to the elevators alone to go up to the ninth floor. Vivian finally caught up with me just as the door was about to close, and the look on her face almost made me want to snap someone's neck. She looked so happy, but I knew it was because she had a great time with the other tributes, instead of it being me who was the one making her feel that way.<p>

There was no point in me telling her that we'd have to kill one of them at some point, or that not everyone can win in these Games. Twenty-four of us go in; one comes out. That's how it's been ever since the Dark Days ended.

And it looks as if that's how it's gonna be for a long time.


	5. House of Interviews

**Chapter Five: House of Interviews**

Joy's POV:

Being from Five wasn't as bad as it could have been. I mean, we controlled the power throughout Panem, and my parents and older brother all worked at one of the many power plants throughout the district. The only thing was, I looked different compared to a lot of others from Five. Mainly everyone else, including my district partner, had pale skin and red hair. My skin, however, was sort of tan, and my hair was a lot darker. It was almost the color of chestnut.

Tonight was the night of the interviews. Then, tomorrow, we'd all be taken to the arena to fight to the death.

I had confidence in dying during the Bloodbath.

"Come on, Joy, it's time to see your prep team."

I begrudgingly followed my district escort and Owen, my district partner, to the elevator so we could meet up with our respective prep teams and stylists. I wasn't too nervous about the interviews; everyone always said I had a gift for captivating people's attention. I guess I could just pretend I was only talking to Caesar, and just ignore the fact that the entire world was watching me.

The entire population of Panem.

Mom and Dad.

My older brother and younger sister.

Suddenly, I was starting to get this nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach

"I can't do this," I choked out as I stared at myself in the mirror. I was wearing a beautiful blood-red gown, my hair was done up to perfection, and all I had to do was step into a pair of heels and off I went to wait in line with Owen and the other tributes.

"You'll be fine," my stylist said. "Just pretend you're talking to Caesar without the picture of the audience. Try not to think about everyone. Or, if it makes you feel better, you can picture me during your interview."

I arched an eyebrow at him. "Thanks, but I don't know how much that'll help. I was planning on ignoring the fact that the rest of Panem was watching my every move, but now I'm not so sure of how that'll work."

He smiled at me. "You'll be fine, Joy. I have faith in you."

_Sure you do,_ I thought sarcastically, resisting the urge to tug at the left shoulder of my dress. It was one-shouldered, and not that I minded, but I was just really antsy about the entire thing.

I wish it hadn't been my name to be pulled from the bowl at the Reaping.

I sighed as he put a few bejeweled pins in my hair, had me spin around in the heels, and then escorted me to where the rest of the tributes were waiting. I tried to avoid eye contact with everyone else as we waited in line. I didn't even talk to Owen, who was standing in front of me. He turned around to flash me a quick smile, then faced the right way as we all stood in silence, occasionally staring up at the screen placed near the front of the room to watch Caesar babble on to the rest of the universe about how these Games were supposed to be the best yet, and then continued to boast about how he thought this year's batch of tributes looked promising, too.

Then, the girl from One was called out to interview. Her name was Amber, and her dress was beautiful: A flowing pink gown that looked as if the bottom of it were made of rose petals, and sparkly silver heels. Her hair was curled, but there weren't any pins or glitter or anything in it.

I was almost jealous of her appearance. Almost.

One by one, they were called out to talk to Caesar and the rest of the world about how they would kill us all.

"Joy Mercer?"

Someone said my name. I didn't even notice Owen had already gone, and I was the next one to go out.

The boy from Six tapped me on the shoulder before I started walking out to the stage. I turned around.

"Good luck," he said, flashing me a smile.

"Thanks," I responded, trying my best to look confident. _He's kind of cute,_ I thought. _But I can't be falling for a tribute. Plus, he probably left someone back home anyway._

Letting my sham of a love life fall to the back of my mind, I braced myself to take on the charismatic and somewhat intimidating Caesar Flickerman.

"Sit down, Joy," he started off as I approached him. He was sitting in a large, white chair that reminded me somewhat of a bowl. There was an empty one next to him that he gestured to for me to take.

I obliged.

"So," he continued, "you've done exceptionally well in training, getting an impressive score of nine. But, we can save all the fighting for the arena. Now, what's your favorite thing about the Capitol?"

"It's different," I said without thinking. "Much different compared to home. The food is worlds better." _Right, Joy, that's real smart. Talk about food. Idiot._

As if I'd said something funny, Caesar started laughing. The audience joined him, and he rested a hand on my shoulder. "Well, I'm glad you enjoy the food here. Your dress is exquisite, might I add."

"Thank you," I replied, smiling. _This isn't so bad,_ I thought. "My stylist and prep team are fantastic. I'm impressed with their work as well."

Caesar smiled. "Now, Joy: About your home life. Do you have a boyfriend?"

"No," I replied without missing a beat. "There was someone fancied when I was back in Five, but now that I'm in the Games…"

"Tell you what," he started, "you'll win these Games. And when you do, that guy back home will _have_ to go out with you. It's inevitable."

_I wish it were that easy,_ I thought. "I don't know… I've known him since I was little; our families are very good friends, and I've been close to him for as long as I can remember. If I do go home, I don't want it to ruin our friendship."

He nodded, the style his blue hair was in casting shadows every so often. "I see," he answered, tapping his pointer finger against his chin.

_Why am I even talking about this?_ I asked myself. _The entire country is listening!_

"Well, Joy," he started, taking my hand, "good luck. With your training skills and beauty, I'm sure you'll win this year's Hunger Games."

"Thank you, Caesar," I responded. He leaned down to kiss the back of my hand, and then gestured for me to stand up with him. After the crowd applauded again, I walked off the stage in the opposite direction from where I came.

My confidence had been boosted significantly thanks to the interview with Caesar, but I was still freaking out about the whole fighting-to-the-death part.

* * *

><p>Later, after a few hours of restless sleep, I found myself sitting in the dining room of our floor, an Avox serving me a plate of cookies and warm milk.<p>

_This could be the last snack I ever eat,_ I thought glumly, chewing on one of the cookies. _Better make it a good one._


End file.
